


The Lioness and the Mabari

by VigilantThornwood



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Humor, Rivaini, Romance, exotic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigilantThornwood/pseuds/VigilantThornwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Story of Dragon Age: Origins, told through Alistair's perspective. A tale about how he helps his fellow Warden in the daunting task laid before them: Stop the infighting, stop the blight and hopefully live to tell the tale. It is also a tale of blossoming romance between an exotic mage and a young vengeful almost-Templar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the lovely Pookathecat, whose amazing story jumpstarted mine. Her story can be found here (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2776832/chapters/6227786)
> 
>  
> 
> This is my first shot at doing anything of this kind, so any criticism and feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> Contains quotes from Dragon Age Origins.

 

 

# Chapter I

 

 

‘’I just want to make sure you don’t confuse the names, the Darkspawn are delicate business…’’

‘’You are not needed Warden, thanks for the offer!’’, the instructor barked. I turned around with a sigh, feeling the eyes of the other soldiers burn into the back of my skull. If only they understood…

The Revered Mother is looking for me, I just know it! I’ve been seeing Sisters going about all across the camp, no doubt looking for me. Thus far, I’ve given them the slip, hiding among the soldiers. I would be perfectly happy to listen to the Revered Mother once Duncan gets back.

Well, actually not so much. I could think of a hundred things she needs me for, none of them good. But at least then I’d have been able to greet my mentor, along with the new recruit he mentioned in his letter.

So lost in thought was I, I didn’t see the hulking man clad in metal until it was too late, and bumped into his back.

‘’Whoa, where’s my mind! Sorry about that…’’, I start.

As he turned around, I froze. The Sword of Mercy on his chestplate, the purple robes underneath…a Templar.

‘’No worries young lad!’’ For the shortest moment I had hope he wasn’t here to find me. ‘’Wait, You seem familiar. I think the Revered Mother was asking for you! Alistair, was it not?’’

 

I felt like I was going to hurl.

 

‘’M-me? No, th-there must be a mishap…’’, I offered meekly.

‘’No, you fit the bill.’’, he sized me up. ‘’Blonde, wet behind the ears and looks like his armour is two sizes to large for him.’’

I gave him an incredulous look. ‘’She said that about _me_?’’

‘’So she is looking for you!’’, he replied with a shite-eating grin. Busted! There was no way to talk myself out of this now. ‘’Alright, where is she then? I’ll go speak to her.’’, I said, sounding rather defeated.

‘’I’ll take you to her, it’s not far, if you would follow me.’’ he replied warmly. He was just doing his job, which while amiable, meant that I couldn’t slip away. So I followed him in silence, preparing for the worst.

When we arrived, the Templar called for the Revered Mother’s attention.

‘’Your Reverence! I have found the man called Alistair!’’

The Revered Mother turned around and, noticing it was indeed me, flashed a smile that said enough. I was in trouble.

‘’Excellent! You are dismissed, good Ser.’’ With that, the Templar bowed and left, most likely joining his brothers guarding the mages. That just left me, looking at the floor like a dog who raided the pantry.

‘’Brother Alistair! How nice to see you again. I’ve been looking all over for you!’’

Translation: ‘’Fool Alistair, there you are! It took way too long to drag you here!’’ Living in the monastery in Bournshire, I learned a thing or two about the undercurrents that the Sisters used when talking to us.

‘’Actually, it’s Warden Alistair now…’’, I started, still looking at the floor, noticing the Tevinters had a thing for strict patterning.

‘’Look at me when you talk to me, _Brother_ Alistair.’’ Any fake warmth she tried to portray was gone, replaced by stern authority. I looked up instantly, staring in uncaring eyes. ‘’You were saying?’’

I decided being defiant wasn’t worth the verbal thrashing I could receive from her, so I played along. I put on my best smile, looked her straight in the eye, and replied: ‘’What is it you require of me, your Reverence?’’

 

 

It wasn’t the worst lecture I ever had, but by the Maker does she know how to play into your guilt. So it was off to find the mage she wanted to talk to. I didn’t ask details. One, I just wanted this over with and two, because she wouldn’t have given me any. It felt like punishment, sending me on some dumb errand because I got away from the chantry. Like I was to be such a great Templar, I was a horrible Brother to begin with!

 Still, I wasted no time looking for this mage she urgently needed to speak to. If I was quick about it, I might still catch Duncan arriving!

  It took some searching, followed by persuasion, but I had found the mage busy in a small alcove deep in the ruins. Now came the task of convincing him the Revered Mother's request was heeded. It wasn't without difficulty though. As I feared, the mage immediately picked up on the sour undertone that the request brought. Suffice it to say, he was anything but pleased with both me and the Revered Mother.

''Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!''

My snark and stubbornness however, persuaded him to finally see reason. Or he finally had enough of my jokes. I get that often.

 I stuck my tongue out behind his back as he walked away, when I saw someone walking towards me. My look of minor guilt at being caught was nothing in comparison to how I must've looked as I got a close look at her.

She was tall, that was apparent at first glance. Her skin was a shade of brown, similar to Duncan, yet slightly darker. Dark, wavy hair flowed to her shoulders, framing an immaculate face. Interestingly, a sphere of gold was embedded in the right side of her nose. Her eyes were golden, set in a slight almond curve. Her full lips were set in a warm smile

A smile that started to falter the more I was staring at her like a lecher.      It was when she turned around, checking to see if I was looking behind her, that I was pulled me out of my stare. I straightened myself out, closed the distance and decided to try and break the awkward silence that had formed between us. ''You know, one good about the Blight is how it brings people together.''

 

Wow, that was bad.

 

Really bad. I really had nothing better? Bad can be well and truly funny. But that was just - was she giggling?

She was! That was a giggle!

''I know exactly what you mean.'', She said, amusement in her soft, warm voice, her smile returned.

''It's like a party, we could all stand in a circle and hold hands! That would give the Darkspawn something to think about. Wait, we haven't met have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?'' No sooner had I asked when I noticed her staff looming slighty over her head. ‘’Oh, the clear as day answer's right there, silly me!’’ I said, pointing at her staff.

‘’What, this old thing?’’, she said. ‘’Just a walking aid, I swear! I’ve a terrible back.’’

There was a joke to be made about her physique there. I could understand how her chest would cause problems for her back! But as the gentleman I am, I refrained.

‘’That explains the elaborate carvings. Oh and the quaint glow. Or is that somehow unique to yours only?’’

She put up her hands in mock defeat. ‘’You win, such keen eyes cannot be beaten! Yes, I’m a mage. Newly arrived, in fact.’’

‘’I thought all the Circle mages had arrived days ago?’’

I’m not part of the Circle. At least, not anymore.’’, She explained. ‘’I came here with Duncan, the Grey Warden.’’

''Duncan? So you must be the new Grey Warden recruit.'' Blasted, I missed his arrival! Maker, he knows how to pick them, doesn’t he? It did make me a bit uncomfortable to find out she's his recruit. Not because of a disdain for women, mind! Or mages, for that matter. It's just that she seemed rather fragile, clad in just robes, no armour on her. But I trust Duncan, he doesn't recruit out of pity. She must've earned her recruitment. Or she was forced into it. But by her attitude that didn't seem to be so.

''That's right. Duncan sent me to find and collect someone called Alistair.''

I smirked. ''That would be me. Alistair, of the Grey Wardens. I didn't catch your name though.''

''My name's Imogen.''. Maker, even her name is beautiful. ''Shall we be off?'', she asked, pointing at the centre of the ruins. ‘’Duncan said to come back to him when I found you.’’

''Yes, though we'll need to pick up the other recruits, Daveth and Ser Jory. Unless you’ve already met them?''.

''I've met Daveth.''

''Ah yes, the pickpocket. I still can't see why Duncan brought him.'' I honestly didn't know. But Duncan knows best when it comes to recruits. I've no doubt some might've said the same about me. ''That leaves Ser Jory. Care to come along? Everybody needs to be present to prepare for your joining. We'll meet up with Duncan together.''

''I’d very much like to!'', Imogen replied cheerily. Which took me by surprise. She really didn't mind? I'm not used to this sort of positivity when it concerns myself. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it, of course, not to sound ungrateful.

‘’I hope you won’t mind answering a bumbling recruit’s questions? This is all so new to me.’’, She said as she looked around the ruins. She seemed nervous, very reasonably so.

‘’Ask away, I’ll answer the best I can. Some things I can not discuss with you though, not yet. Most questions are fine, however!’’

She seemed pleased by my answer. I just hope I can clear up some of the more vague aspects about us Wardens. Though sadly, not all.

As we set out I gave a quick thanks to the Maker. Despite the way my day started, it turned out better than I had hoped. From trying to dodge the Revered Mother and having to sit through that whinging mage, to strolling about with a beautiful young girl. I can only hope the day stays this good!


	2. Chapter II

 

# Chapter II

 

Imogen said she had questions, and she didn't skim on any of them! Everything from the Grey Wardens, to Darkspawn, to the Blight itself. she did ask about the Joining, which I had feared. But she understood the need for secrecy, or at least accepted I couldn't talk about it. Even Duncan came up, as she asked me what I thought about him. I told her the truth, that he saved me from an unfulfilling life in service of something I wasn't completely convinced by. I then asked her what she thought about him. Her response was short, yet summed him up nicely, I couldn't disagree.

Such we thus walked through the ruins looking for Ser Jory when the next barrage of questions started.

''So, how did you get recruited then?'', She asked. I figured this was coming, so I turned it around on her. ''You first, how did Duncan manage to snatch up a mage from the Circle?''

''I was conscripted, technically. Not like I don't want to become a Grey Warden, don't get me wrong! But it wasn't entirely of my own will.''

How did you get conscripted, then?''. My curiosity was peaked now.

As she started to speak, her eyes gave off an aura of sadness, even as she tried to sound level-headed. ''I helped a friend in dire need. As repayment he betrayed me. I was set to be punished as an accomplice when Duncan used the right  
of conscription on me. So here I am.''

I got the feeling she was being vague on purpose, but I didn't wish to pry further. ''It's your turn now, Alistair.'', she said with some regained cheer.

I decided to get the awkward part out of the way as soon as possible. ''I was raised in a monastary to become a Templar.'', I started. ''Duncan saw I was unhappy and recruited me. He figured my training could help fight Darkspawn  
magic.''

She stopped walking, her look of concern was telling. ''Oh, a Templar...''

Much as I expected, that was a rather typical mage response when they hear what I was bound to become. So I decided to set her mind at ease, to make sure she wouldn't be uncomfortable using her magic around me.

''Don't worry, I'm not here to look over your shoulder and keep you from doing what you need to do. We're Wardens now. Well, I'm one, you're to be one. So no judging on my part, if you don't judge me!''

''Very fair terms, I can agree to that, 'Ser Alistair'!'', she said with a wink as she made the typical Templar gesture, arms crossed in front of her chest with a small bow. I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my head. That damned chest again! I shouldn't be thinking about her like that, but she was making it rather difficult!

Right... well let's just keep going then, shall we?'' I hoped I could disguise my flustered response with my renowned awkwardness. She gave a teasing laugh and nodded. ''Time is wasting, this Jory character can't be far now, can he?''

 

Despite urging her to find Jory faster, she still managed to detour along the way. Imogen started to chat with the prisoner close to one of the gates leading out of Ostagar. He had asked for some food in exchange for a key. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but she actually managed to sweet talk the grumpy guard into giving up his bread for the prisoner. I had to say I was impressed! The prisoner gave her a key to the mages chest guarded by a Tranquil. I had thought that it meant we weren't going to get whatever was inside, but Imogen gave me look that that spelled mischief. Ser Jory was found relatively close by, I had just engaged him in conversation, answering some simple questions when someone started shouting behind me.

''Go choke on your Chant, you self-righteous Chantry bitch!''

  
I recognized that voice.

  
I turned just in time to see a furious Imogen stride past me, with an equally fuming Chantry Sister standing near a statue of Andraste. The Sister turned her gaze to me. ''It saddens my heart to hear the Grey Wardens harbour heathens in their midst!'', she said with indignation in her voice. Most of the attendees were either staring at me or Imogen. I looked at the disgruntled Sister and gave her an awkward shrug. Not my call to make, nor would I have really cared if I knew beforehand, to be honest.

The Sister gave up on trying to shame me and stormed off. I checked up on Imogen, it seemed Ser Jory had calmed her down a bit. When she saw me approach, she immediately apologised. ''She wanted to bless me. I refused -politely, I might add. Then she went off about how it was a disgrace they let me in, how I was a dirty heathen and how I should accept the light while I still could. She just kept going on, then I snapped. I know I shouldn't have, I'm sorry.'', she said remorsefully, her eyes cast down. I patted her shoulder, as she looked up I gave a reassuring smile. ''The Grey Wardens do everything it takes to stop the Blight. Backgrounds and Faith shouldn't matter, we all strive for an end to the Darkspawn. That's what Duncan told me, it's what I'm telling you now.''. He used it to humble the Revered Mother when she spoke out against my recruitment. Not that she called Duncan or myself a heathen, mind! No, she was 'dissapointed' that the Wardens would steal a Templar from the Chantry for their own nefarious means. I remember having to hold in my laughter, especially when she said I was 'invalueable', only three hours after railling against me because I mumbled through the recitations.

Imogen looked relieved. ''Thanks Alistair, that means a lot.''. Suddenly she looked up at the sky. ''We should really be heading back to Duncan. And all these people staring at us aren't making things better.'' Honestly, I figured she was used to being stared at, looking like she did. But she was right, Duncan is a patient man, but I'd hate to keep him waiting for no reason.

 

Duncan smiled warmly as he saw us approach. ''Ah Alistair, there you are!''. I smiled back at my mentor and commander, a man I would follow into the darkest corner of the Deep Roads on a whim. His darker skin made him stand out from the mostly pale faces of the Ferelden soldiery, as well as his quaint armour and choice of weaponry.

''Yes, with the other recruits in tow!'', I said as I gestured towards Imogen and Jory. Daveth was already there. ''They tell me they're ready for their trial.''

Duncan nodded. ''Good. But before we continue, I'd like a word, Alistair.'' His tone wasn't inherently ominous, but I couldn't shake the feeling I was in trouble, however slight it may have been. Duncan turned to the recruits. ''Stay close, but otherwise you are allowed a moment before we begin. You will be called when we start'' With that, Imogen walked towards the kennel master, who was beckoning her, as Daveth followed a few paces behind, sneaking cheeky glances at the young mage's rear. Ser Jory warmed himself near the fire, staring at the flames.

''What is it you wanted to discuss, Duncan?'', I asked as he shook my hand. ''Multiple things, Alistair, starting with your run in with a certain mage.'', he said, a serious and concerned look on his face. I knew this was coming. Word must've travelled about how the Grey Warden was made the Chantry errand boy, peeving off mages in name of the Revered Mother.

''What can I say, the Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she weilds guilt, they should stick her in the army!'', I said, hoping I could avoid a lecture with some quick wit.

''She forced you to sass the mage, did she?'', Duncan said, his brow furrowed. ''We can't give them anymore ammunition against us, we're too fragile as it stands.''

''I know Duncan. I'm sorry.'', I replied, looking at the ground in shame. Duncan put his hand on my shoulder, when I looked up he gave me an affirming nod. ''It's quite alright Alistair. As for what else I wanted to discuss...''. As he said this he looked towards Imogen, who was in the kennel, muzzling a Mabari the size of a small ram.

''I see you've met our newest recruit.'', Duncan said as he watched her intently.

''I did, the mage with a complexion unlike many...'', I mused.

Duncan chuckled. ''Unlike many around here, you mean. Where she's from, she would be lost in a crowd.''

''I'd like to see her do that here! Which reminds me Duncan, she looks a bit like you.''. He smiled, the wrinkles on his face only adding to his sage-like appearance. ''That would be because we share some kinship. She's Rivaini, Alistair.''

''Rivaini...?'', I repeat. As it stood I knew little of...well, bascially anything Rivain. I knew where it was, though, thanks to some rigorous geography lessons in the monastary. I was fairly certain then that I would never meet anyone outside Ferelden. Or the monastery for that matter. Now I can count an Ander, alongside some Marchers as my friends in the Wardens. And now a gorgeous Rivaini as well.

''Yes, Rivaini, I saw that at first glance. Although there is something there that I can't quite place, something else...'', Duncan replied.

''Might it be the length? I don't see many women that tall...'', I mused.

''No, it's not just that.'', Duncan said stroking his beard, seemingly lost in thought. It seemed even he hadn't figured her out entirely. ''She was quite shy at the Tower, I doubt she met more than the handful of people she has seen all her life.''. As we were looking at her, she turned around. Noticing us, she waved enthousiastically, then promptly spun around, resuming her conversation with the kennel master and Daveth.

''She doesn't seem so shy now, honestly.'', I said. ''She was happy to start conversation with me, if a bit nervous.''

''You do have a way with people Alistair, even if you might deny it yourself.'', Duncan said with a warm glint in his golden eyes. I gave a nervous chuckle, I'm really bad at compliments, even if they came from someone genuine like Duncan. ''How does a Rivaini mage wind up in a Fereldan Circle anyway, I wonder?'', I asked, turning the topic back to our interesting recruit.

''It's difficult to say, nobody really wanted to talk about it.'', Duncan said. ''There are rumours, of course...''

''Wouldn't have pegged you for a gossip, Duncan.'', I teased. He gave me a wry smile. ''I normally wouldn't be, but as you said, she is unusual.''

''Transfers are rare, though. I still remember that from training.'', I recalled. Duncan nodded. ''Very true, but as it stands we only know what a few loose tongues were willing to tell me. Probably watered down from the person THEY heard it from and so on.''

''But what did they say?'', I asked, perhaps a bit too eager.'' Duncan took note, I saw that glint in his eyes, but he didn't act on it. ''Rumours abound about pirates and hedge-witches and seers. Those are the only credible ones and even then, completely unsubstantiated.''

''Pirates...?'' I repeated. It sounded absurd. If Duncan was willing to entertain the notion however...

''Don't give it much thought, Alistair. The circle and Chantry are notoriously tight-lipped, just take a look at the documents you had to sign before you left the Templars.''

''Ugh, I rather not!'', I groaned. ''It took me a better part of a day to get through those!'' Although that may have been because I understand nought of Chantry legal code. Maker was I glad I wouldn't have to look at anything like that again!

''It would seem that the Circle is not interested in divulging information like that to the Grey Wardens. It may be because we've only recently returned to Ferelden, the bias against us might still be strong. Or it's the Chantry breathing down their necks, no doubt they are already angered at losing a mage to us. Anyhow, it doesn't matter. Stopping the Blight is the only thing that matters.'' Duncan continued. ''And she has pledged herself fully.'' I nodded in agreement, she seemed ready to become a Grey Warden. But only the Joining would tell us for sure.

''Call them back, they have had their little break. We will explain what they need to do.'', Duncan said. Clearly he felt it was time to get underway. With that I gathered Imogen and Daveth, taking my place next to Duncan as he explained their task. Alongside finding Darkspawn blood, which was their official task, I was entrusted to lead them to an old Warden outpost, where there were several treaties of old. When Imogen asked what these treaties were for, Duncan explained they were promises of aid against the Blight.

As we went off, I noticed Imogen seemed rather calm, despite it all. ''You seem awfully collected for someone heading into a dark swamp.'', I remarked as we got underway.

''Oh come on, what kind of girl doesn't like dank, murky swamps? It's finalizing a dream, really!''. Maker, this girl had quick wit, I couldn't help but laugh. ''Truly times have changed, most lasses I know wouldn't want to be found dead in a swamp!'', I retorted.

''Without a doubt, think of the hair disasters!'', She said with that amazing smile. ''Of course I only jest, I actually heard from Da-'' she stopped mid sentence, seemingly thinking through her words. ''This isn't getting anyone in trouble is it? Can I get a guarantee from you?'', she suddenly asked, slight concern in those large golden eyes of her.

I crossed my hand over my heart. ''On my honour, dear young lady!'', I said theatrically. Imogen rolled her eyes, yet still smiled. ''Shouldn't have bothered asking. Anyway, Daveth was sneaking around camp and heard people talk about a trial involving the Wilds. He told me about it when I first met him.''

Well, that's a sneak for you, I suppose.'', I said as we walked through the gate towards the swampy woods, the guard saluting us on the way out. I honestly shouldn't have been surprised. I've seen him peeking corners and trying to eavesdrop on people across camp. Harmless, as long as he didn't steal anything, so I let him be. ''He's friendly, isn't he?''.

''I suppose, though he stares alot.'', Imogen said. ''When I said hello he didn't even respond at first. And I find him looking my way often. Is it my face? There's nothing wrong with my face, is there?'', she asked suddenly, feeling her face for any blemishes.

I found it quite hard to fathom how she didn't know why he was staring. Did nobody stare at her in the Tower? ''No, there's nothing wrong with your face. Maybe he's just shy.'', I offered.

''Perhaps, but once he starts talking there's no stopping him!''

''Ha, the same could be said of you, young lady! Calling the kettle black are we?'', I teased. She gave a nervous chuckle. ''I suppose...Living in a tower doesn't do marvels to one's gregariousness, though I suppose I've never really been that social.'', she admitted. What she said was very relatable. Somehow I always manage to turn things awkward despite myself. ''I can relate, believe me.'', I reassured her.

She nodded, going through her hair to pick out a leaf she caught in a overhanging branch. As it was still awhile to the ruins and neither Daveth or Ser Jory seemed that talkative, I decided to chat with Imogen, see what she brought to the table for the Grey Wardens.

''So, I was wondering...'', I started, ''Your a mage, what do you do exactly? In terms of spells, I mean.''

''I'm a healer.'', She said, pride swelling in her voice. ''A damned good one, according to my mentor. Not that he's the only one saying it, of course. But I'm good at what I do Alistair, promised.''. I was impressed, Duncan managed to snatch up a healer from the Circle. Any army would pay out their rear-ends for a bad one, let alone a good one! ''Impressive, we could certainly use someone around who can patch us up after a rough fight.'', I said, nodding.

''That's not all!'', she said, as if selling a pitch like a merchant. The way she beamed was cute, all proud and slightly cocky. "I'm also an asset on the battlefield, in case you were worrying. I know a few warspells as well.''

''That's good too! To be fair, we're suffering from a lack of mages. But the Order here is still new, so it's no wonder.'' I reckoned her recruitment would show mages they're welcome as anyone else, even if the Chantry would do it's best to stop it.

As Imogen and I were talking Daveth urged us to stop. He looked at the ground, then scanned the shrubbery surounding us. ''Wolves.'', was all he uttered. In the very next moment we were beset by the wily beasts. No Blight wolves, fortunately. Duncan told me their pain drives them to madness, which makes them even more ferocious. As we fought them I got a good sense of the ablilities of our party. Daveth shooting fast with his shortbow, switching to his dagger when they came too close. Ser Jory proved his knighthood, as his swing ended two wolves in a calculated slash. Even Imogen was impressive, as she swung her staff, blasting off bolts of lightning at whatever got to close. I for my part kept a close eye on her, as well as get some kills in myself. As the last few ran off I looked around to see everybody standing. ''All of you alright?'', I asked for safe measure. Nods followed. ''You too, Imogen?''

''I nodded, didn't I?'', she said with a snarky smirk.

''Ya barely know each other and you're already joined at the hip, eh?'', Daveth remarked. While his remark was playful, it still made me blush. Thank the Maker it wasn't noticable through the fatigue showing in my face. Or so I hoped. Imogen didn't seem to notice the intent behind his comment. ''If everybody is ready, let's move out.'', I said, ignoring him. Daveth took it in stride, resuming to scout ahead of us.

The rest of the trip was silent yet tense, save for picking up a flower that would help some sick Mabari back at camp. Apparently Imogen promised the Kennel master to look out for it. Knowing the Darkspawn were lurking about. Ser Jory turned paler the further we trekked into the Wilds, clearly the anticipation was getting to him. Suddenly I feel the sting through my head that signaled we found what we were looking for: Darkspawn. Sure enough, around some sunken ruins, a small group was doing...whatever Darkspawn do whilst idle. What do the diabolical do when no-one's around? There was no time for contemplation. ''Darkspawn! Prepare yourselves!'', I shouted, pointing my sword at the foul creatures.

They were genlocks, the smallest of the bunch, and fortunately quickly dispatched. But their effect on the recruits was clear. Jory turned from pale to green, Daveth squeezed his nose shut to block the stench and Imogen had a clear look of disgust on her face, looking ready to vomit as well.

''Foul things, aren't they?'', I asked. She just nodded, clearly a little taken aback by their horrific appearance. ''Don't worry, it'll only get easier from here, believe me. Contrary to what many think, they are perfectly killable.''. I figured some words of encouragement would improve the mood and raise morale. I was rather wrong. Ser Jory started on a panicked tangent, getting into an argument with Daveth.

It was then we heard a rather weak help. Looking around to find the source, there seemed to be someone moving in a pile of corpses close by. Imogen rushed towards the man almost obscured by the many bodies piled on him. ''Ser Jory, get those bodies off of him!'', she ordered. The way she said it, like a clear command and not just some barking demand, shook him out of his fear and spurred the knight into action, clearing the man out of the pile.

He was a soldier for sure, dressed in scraps what would once have been called armour. The Darkspawn seemed to have gotten him good, cuts and wounds adorned his blood soaked body. Imogen kneeled in next to him, examining the man's body. ''Stay calm, don't move.'', she said softly, as her hands loomed over a massive wound in his leg. As a blue-ish light came from her hands, the wound started to close with a rather sickening sound! Imogen's eyes were closed as she softly hummed, closing the small cuts adorning his body. Then she stoped, the man softly sighed in relief as his wounds were mostly gone.

''I got rid of the worst of his wounds, but he still needs attention.'' She urged. I looked from the soldier to the sun, to the road back to Ostagar and back to the soldier. ''Ser Jory, help me get this man up, we'll drop him off at the gate, if need be.'', I said. As Ser Jory helped him up, the soldier whispered a weak ''thank you'' to Imogen. She gave him a comforting smile. ''You'll be alright, you have my word.''.

As luck would have it, we didn't have to move far. We encountered scouts along the route, they gladly took both the wounded soldier as well as the flower for the Kennel master that Imogen picked back with them, the kind souls. With so much time wasted I knew we had to be quick. ''Alright, now that is dealt with, we are heading straight for the ruins. Wherever they are.''.

That last part might've been unneccessary, as well as unhelpful. At least they didn't say anything of it, perhaps rather glad to get this over with as well. The wilds were cold and wet, growing ever more so by the hour. So the sooner we set out, the better. I was actually surprised when we reached a bridge, ruins with Griffon imagery across in the distance. The time it took was nothing, thanks to Daveth's quick feet and keen eyes. He said he grew up in the wilds, so navigating it wasn't a big deal. Though I doubted we would spend much time in the Wilds specifically, having a scout like him join our ranks wouldn't be a bad thing.

Yet, as we dispatched the Darkspawn on and over the bridge, Imogen had discovered a scrap of paper detailing a ritual of some sort. Despite my protests of wanting to be done with finding these damned treaties, she wasn't dissuaded. The promise of loot excited Daveth, whilst Ser Jory seemed as apprehensive as myself. I conceded, if it was quick and nearby, we could do it. It was almost worth it for the ecstatic response from Imogen, shaking with anticipation at the thought of some arcane knowledge or artifact.

When it was found, she was still shaking. Only this time in fear. The damned ritual had summoned a shade! Fortunately it was weak, dispatched through combined efforts of our little team. Imogen gave me a guilty look, her eyes watering slightly. ''I'm sorry, I should have known better Alistair, I just got so excited...''.

''It's fine Imogen, really. Nobody could have know. Besides, at the end of it all, we're all still standing aren't we?'', I offered. I wasn't mad, perhaps she could have been a bit more cautious, but she shouldn't beat herself up over it. It was as much my fault for agreeing to try and find it, honestly.

''All this for some stupid boots!'', she said, angrily kicking the pile of rags that remained of the shade we accidentally summoned.

''Hey, never doubt the value of some good boots!'', I said jokingly, trying to lighten her up. ''Besides, those look like a good find, regardless of what you think.''. Those boots gave off the radiating glow of something enchanted. Imogen saw it too, her expression softening. ''Maybe.'', she said with a weak smile. She turned to Daveth. ''I'm sorry there wasn't any coin for you here, Daveth.'' Daveth, for his part, took it rather well. ''Another time, princess, you'll repay me, I've no doubt about that.'', he said with a wink.

That got a response out of her. She looked away, with a shy smile, rubbing the back of her neck. Was that a blush? I know I shouldn't have, but I felt a twang of jealousy, which I nearly instantly regretted. Trying to put my thoughts aside, I looked at the ruined outpost. ''Are we all rested? It's time to complete the mission and get out of this bloody swamp!''.

The only thing that was standing between us and the treaties was a group of Darkspawn, led by a Hurlock Alpha. Taller than most men and coated in thick armour, those brutes could take out fifteen men on their own. Lucky for us, we had a mage on our side. Imogen's spells not only hurt the enemy, sometimes she would cast a spell that invigorated me. From barely being able to keep my shield up to slamming against an Alpha with all my stamina restored. Maker praise that svelte Rivaini! In no small part due to her, we made quick work of our last foes for now. Confidently I smashed open the chest in the ruin, reaching inside to grab...

Nothing. Nothing in the chest! No treaties, not even a scrap of paper! Just as panic began to set in, a female voice echoed through the ruin.

  
''Well well, what have we here?''.

Turning towards the ramp leading up into what used to be a tower, a woman stood at the top, slowly making her way down. she looked like trouble, that much was clear from the start. Her clothes were mere scraps, hiding only the bare minimum of her body. Black hair messily done up, her eyes yellow and mistrustful.

''Are you a vulture, I wonder?'', she continued, now speaking more to Imogen than any of us. ''A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these Darkspawn filled wilds of mine in searh of easy prey?''. She stood head to head with Imogen now. Ser Jory was frozen in place, Daveth was visibly shaking. ''What say you, hmm? Scavenger or Intruder?''

''We are neither. the grey wardens once owned this tower-'', Imogen started before the woman cut her off.

'' 'Tis a tower no longer, the wilds have obviously claimed this dessicated corpse.'', she said dismissively

''I have watched your progress for some time. Where do they go I wondered, why are they here?'', she began, walking away from us to stand on a small hill. ''And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?''

''Don't answer her, she looks chasind, which means other might be nearby!'', I warned Imogen.

''Ooohh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?!'', the woman said sarcastically.

''Yes, swooping is bad.'', I replied. In the corner of my eye I could see Imogen smiling ever so slightly at that, I couldn't help but smirk myself.

''She's a witch of the wilds she is, she'll turn us into toads!'' Daveth shouted, almost mad with fear.

''Witch of the wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?'', the woman said with a sneer. Suddenly she turned to Imogen again. ''You there! Women do not frighten like little boys, tell me your name and I  
shall tell you mine.''

''My name is Imogen, a pleasure to meet you!'', Imogen said with the naiveté of someone clearly brought up way too properly.

''Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the wilds! You may call me Morrigan.'', she replied, almost taken aback by Imogen's introduction. ''Shall I guess your purpose? you sought something in that chest, something that is  
here no longer?

''Here no longer?'', I started angrily. ''You stole them didn't you? Your...some kind of...sneaky...witch-thief!'', I managed to blubber out. Not my finest moment, I will be honest.

Morrigan looked unimpressed. ''How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?''

''Quite easily it seems.'', I said dryly. ''Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them!'' I demanded, using my best authority voice.

''I will not, for it was not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish, I am not threatened.''

''Then who removed them? Imogen asked, trying to get to the heart of this discussion. ''twas my mother, in fact.'', Morrigan said. ''Could you take us to her?'' Imogen asked politely. Morrigan's face softened a bit. ''Hmm, there is a sensible request, I like you.'', she said with a smile.

Thus we were off to some random woman's mother who just happened to remove some very important Grey Warden documents. It seemed surreal. But then I figured looking for said documents in a dank swamp with three companions, one a beautiful young lass, was surreal to begin with. Still, I was on my guard. This Morrigan was a mage, supposedly the Witch of the Wilds, if Daveth's frantic ranting is to be believed.As I walked beside Imogen I decided to strike a conversation, get my anxiety out of the way. ''I'd be careful, first it's 'I like you', but then zapp! Frog time!'', I warned her.

''Silly Alistair'', she said with a smile, ''I'll just turn you right back if that happens!''

''Could you do that?'', I asked incredulously. She shrugged playfully. ''I don't know, but I'd try my very best. Promised!''

''I'll keep you to that promise!'', I said, and reached out my hand for a shake. She rather gingerly took my hand and shook it. Her hand was warm and soft. I found it rather hard to let go, truth be told. It seemed the feeling was mutual, as she shyly looked away, yet hadn't let go of my hand.

''Could I have my hand back?'', I said, trying not to sound relunctant and failing quite badly. She let go, slowly, her own relutance almost palpable. A blush had formed on her dark cheeks as she smiled shyly. Both of us looked the other way in slight embarrasment, trying to refocus on our mission.

When we got to Morrigan's cabin we were greeted by an old crone. Daveth and Ser Jory just plain stopped some distance from the cabin, refusing to move closer. As such, it was up to me and Imogen to ask her about the treaties, with Imogen doing most of the talking. It may be my Templar training, but I felt very tense and uncomfortable around these two women. There was no doubt they dabbled in magic and judging by how remote they were, it couldn't be good magic.

The old crone gave us our treaties without much fuss though, partly because Imogen asked so nicely, according to Morrigan's mother. As she handed over the treaties, she gave Imogen a long and strange look, something about it made my hand reach for my sword on instinct. Then she looked at me, the strange swirling in her eyes making me uncomfortable beyond reason. But just like that she bade us farewell, having Morrigan bring us back to Ostagar, despite her objections. Though I would have inquired further about Morrigan's mother, I really couldn't argue. It was getting night fast, and we needed to get back to camp as soon as possible.

''So... that was something else, wasn't it?'', I asked Imogen as we followed Morrigan through thick bushes and unnerving clearings.

''Something else indeed.'', she repeated. ''All things considered, everything went quite well, didn't it?''.

''Absolutely, there is no reason you shouldn't be a Grey Warden! Your magic is invalueable.''. She beamed as I said that, yet she tried to stay humble. ''Thank you! But it wasn't just me, of course. Daveth and Ser Jory helped.''

''They did, but we have enough warriors and rogues. A mage can turn the tide to our advantage, as you have clearly shown.''.

''Flattery will get you everywhere, Alistair.'', she remarked with a playful look in her eye. I cocked my eyebrow and smirked. ''Does it now...?''.

''If you two are quite done, we're close to your fortress!'', Morrigan announced, sounding annoyed. ''This is as far as I will take you, I would rather avoid all the Templars back at your camp.''

Imogen walked up to Morrigan. ''Thank you, Morrigan, we appreciate you guiding us back to camp!'' She said with with a warm voice, ignoring the fact Morrigan has been nothing but a colossal bitch to us throughout. This left even Morrigan rather stunned. Y-you are most welcome, I-I suppose.'', she said flustered. She almost sounded ashamed of her behaviour, which left me grinning in schadenfreude, neatly out of her sight.

Then she turned around and left, quickly passing through the woods with the ease of someone who has walked these lands many times over. Despite her being unfriendly, I had to admit I was glad she guided us back. She left us on the road leading back to the gate, a familiar sight. The sun had almost completely set, bathing the wilds in inky blues and near darkness. As we set out for Ostagar, I hoped we never had to see that crazy witch-bitch and her creepy mother ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

 

# Chapter III

 

 

We had finally made it back to Ostagar, cold and hungry, but with both our objectives completed. The recruits had performed amazingly, I foresaw a future in the Wardens for all of them. Most of all Imogen, to be fair. I looked forward to working with her more, I could see us becoming a great team. But that was for Duncan to decide. Who knew, perhaps after the battle I would barely see her again, a thought I banished as soon as it came up.

''So, before we do this freaky ritual malarky, we're gettin' supper, right?'', Daveth asked, his voice sounded as tired as his face looked. The other two shared his sentiment, hopefull faces looking my way.

''It will take some time for the ritual to commence, I doubt Duncan would begrudge you a meal'', I said warmly. I still had a pot of food left, it should fill three bellies nicely. They cheered, before bolting to Duncan, who sat next to the pot in question. He seemed a bit stunned by their eager display, but proudly congratulated them on returning succesfully and unscathed. When I showed him the treaties, he couldn't have been happier. ''This will help our Order tremendously, excellent work Alistair!''

''The recruits helped me, I doubt I would've completed the task without them.'', I said. 'Imogen in particular', was what I thought, but I kept that to myself. Her spells kept us going when we were panting for breath like dogs, as well as healing up that poor soldier.

Duncan nodded. ''It will take some time for the ritual to begin. You are allowed a moment of rest, Alistair will bring you to me when it's time.''. With that, he left. I got started on warming up the meal intended for the recruits. As for them, Jory and Daveth sat down with heavy sighs, Daveth even removed his boots and massaged his aching feet.

Imogen on the other hand, seemed even busier than usual. Whenever I looked up from the pot, she was somewhere else. From the Kennel Master to the merchant and finally hunched over the chest previously guarded by the tranquill, yet now strangely abandoned. When she finally came back she had a mischievous look in her eye, as well as a wry smirk on her lips.

''Look at what I found!'', She said cheerfully, holding a staff in her hand. It was an odd design. The metal was a light green, from about halfway of the shaft to all the way down, where it curved into what looked like a pretty nasty blade.

''Looks impressive'', I said, quite uncertain how I was really supossed to react.

''I'll say!'', she started with an enthousiasm that I couldn't help but smile at. ''Crafted exclusively for war, just look at the blade!''

As she explained it's use it started to make sense. Turning the staff upside down would allow you to use it as a spear, perfectly proportioned and all. ''Really impressive, though I prefer the pike myself. So...why is it green?''.

''It's Veridium.'', she said. She probably expected me to know what that meant. When my face remained blank, she explained. ''Veridium is a metal know for it's great electrial properties, this should help me conduct my shock spells even better!''. The way she said it was like how a child explained the use of her brand new toy, all cheery and excited, a very endearing sight.

''Great! Though I somehow feel as though this staff was aquired through less than legal means...'', I said, cocking my eyebrow.

She scratched the back of her neck, a very guilty look on her face. ''So you remember the key we got from that prisoner? The one we helped bring some food? It just so happened the lock that paired this key was the Tranquil chest left unguarded when we returned! I couldn't, in good conscience, let the items in said chest go to waste, could I?''. My eyebrow felt like it was trying to escape my forehead at this point. ''Let's just say we shouldn't tell Duncan about it, alright?'', she asked, a pleading look on her face.

I leaned back, putting on a contemplative face. Even if I were actually deliberating tattling on her, those huge eyes and pout would have changed my mind on the spot. ''Alright, your secret is safe with me.''

Imogen's relieved look amused me. To be fair I doubted whether Duncan would have even cared. His past was as checkered as they came, plus the whole 'Stopping the Blight' mantra he always used.

''So, are you hungry yet?'', I asked. Her stomach responded for her, rumbling at the slightest mention of food. ''Serve me up, Master Templar!'', she said plopping down next to me. I cringed at her calling me that, but shrugged it off and filled up a bowl for her.

Her sweet smile dissapeared rapidly as she looked into the bowl. ''Why is my food grey?'', she asked incredulously.

''Welcome to Fereldan cooking, my friend!'', I said before stuffing my mouth full of the grey goop.''I promise it's not as bad as it looks.''

She gave another look into her bowl, seemingly resigning herself to eating its content. As she scooped up the food and took her first taste, her face scrunched up in disgust. Despite all that, she managed to swallow it down. ''You're right, it's worse!'', she exclaims as she kept the bowl away from her face.

''Someone's clearly not experienced with Ferelden cuisine!'', Daveth said laughing, his bowl long empty. Imogen looked at him like he called her something nasty. ''The gall to call this cuisine!'', she said in contempt.

''The chef's sitting right here, you know?'', I said, fainting hurt.

''Good, won't have to walk to the kitchen to cuss him out!'', she replied, a smug smile on her lips.

''It's just easy food, honestly.'', I admitted. ''There's not really time for finesse on the road ,you know?''

''Vehemently disagree!''

''Alright then lady chef, next one cooking will be you! How'd you think about that?''

''No problem, I'll make sure that you'll eat well, both in purpose and taste!''. Anyone else might have been genuinely offended by such words, but I knew it was the truth. Never been a great cook, never needed to be.

For a while we sat, eating our food in silence. As Daveth was done, he leapt up, walking towards the nearest female guard. With Ser Jory tuning out, I figured I could pry some answers from Imogen for a change.

''Sooo... Imogen. That's not a name heard alot over here.'', I started, trying to make small talk.

''It gets more common the more north you go'', was her reply. ''It's from Tevinter, mostly.''

''Are you from Tevinter, then?'', I asked. Of course I knew the answer from Duncan, but it was nice to to hear her story from herself.

''No. Well, a bit. I'm one-fourth Tevinter. The rest is Rivaini'', She answered, her voice turning a bit bitter around the Tevinter part.

  
''And what is a Rivaini girl doing so far from Rivain?''

''I was brought here when I was very young. Never left the tower since! Oh, I could tell you about Rivain until this ruin crumbles completely!''

I noticed her changing the subject. I tried to stay on track. ''So how did you get your name?''

''My guardian, Rentorum, gave it to me. He has Tevinter roots too. Joined the Dairsmuid Circle just before I was born..''

''Your guardian named you? where's your mother in this?'', I blurted out. She froze, head bowed down slightly. I instantly regretted bringing that up.

''My mother... is gone. My guardian suggested my name to her.'', she finally managed, eyes growing wet. I opened and closed my mouth like an idiot fish, trying to think of a way I could salvage this wreck. ''What about your father?'', was all I managed to blurt out, as I was suddenly reminded of the rumours. Halfway through the question I was already mentally cursing myself.

Imogen looked up and glared at me, a fiery look in her eye. ''I don't want to talk about him.'', came her blunt reply.

''Alright! That fine! Just don't kill me, pretty please!'' I quickly said, holding my hands up.

Imogen caught herself, so it seemed, as her expression and eyes softened. We sat there in silence for a little while, staring into the flames like Ser Jory. I felt like I needed to apologise, for being a bit abrasive in asking her about her past. ''I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'', I started. ''I didn't intend that, honest.''

Imogen sighed. ''It's alright Alistair, no harm done. Truly.''

''Still, I feel as though I've kind of ruined the mood now.''

She actually chuckled at that. ''I think this Joining ritual was going to do that for me anyway. Is there really nothing you can tell me about it?''

There was attempt number 'I've honestly lost count' of trying to convince me to spill the beans on the ritual. ''I'm sorry, I can't. You might think it will put your mind at ease, but trust me when I say it won't.''

''Such cheeriness around, I feel like at an Orlesian carnival!'' She said, her smile returned in full. Humour solves alot, so they say. I subscribe to that philosphy and it seemed Imogen did too. ''So you mentioned a Rentorum? Who's that?'', I asked, trying to steer the topic away from dead or abandoning parents.

''He's my mentor, came with me from Dairsmuid, he's been with me ever since I was little! Almost everything I learned, I learned from him. He got me this, too.'', she said, pointing at the golden jewelry stuck in her nose. ''Everything I know from Rivain, he told me. He's got quite the history, the old goat!''

I smiled at the enthousiasm she radiated. He sounds alot like Duncan, though Duncan keeps to himself alot. Everything I learned about him either took a long time to coax out of him, or was told to me by others. But I couldn't imagine a better Commander. Or a friend.

''Rivaini eh? I knew there was something I liked about you!''

Imogen and I both jumped at that. Daveth was standing behind us, one of his cheeks quite red.

''What happened to you?'', Imogen asked.

''Oh this?'', Daveth said pointing to the uncomfortable looking mark on his face. ''I was convinced one of the female soldiery here was willing to risk a cheeky tumble before the battle.''

I'm assuming you aren't convinced anymore?'', I remarked dryly.

''Oh no, I still am. Just that that one wasn't interested, sadly. Anyway, if you're not eating that anymore, could I...?'' He pointed at Imogen's bowl of barely touched Fereldan cooking. She practically shoved it in his hands, then gave me an apologetic shrug. I waved my hand as to say 'No harm done'. With that, Daveth walked away again, eating as he followed after a pair of Chantry lay sisters.

Imogen and I continued to chat, mostly trivial stuff. Occasionally I would look at Ser Jory, to see if perhaps he might have something to say. But he just stared at the flames under the cooking pot, brows furrowed and eyes seeming very much elsewhere.

''...and then I was so statically charged, almost all of my hair had to be cut of! It's why it's so short now!'', Imogen exclaimed, finishing her tale of a spell gone quite wrong. I admit I was too busy noting Ser Jory. ''I swear, I was bawling for ages! It's grown back a bit, but I still think... Hey, are you even listening?!''

I caught that, she was on to me! I turned to her, her glare rather intimidating. ''I...am?'', I offered meekly. She shook her head, but I saw the hint of a smile forming on her lips. ''Then please repeat what I just told you.'', she said so innocently it was almost disturbing.

''You were very displeased about your hair?'', I said in a questioning tone, practically dooming myself. ''What woman isn't, am I right?'', I added, wishing Daveth was here. He might've helped me get out of this.

Imogen looked unimpressed. ''Not many women accidentally fry most of their hair, I imagine.''

''You don't know that. Awfully presumtive of you, isn't it?'', I offered. If I was going to get flak for this, I might as well be cheeky.

She laughed aloud at that. Succes! ''Just try to pay more attention next time, will you? Just a suggestion.''

''I should take that to heart'', I said with a smile. But as I looked towards Ser Jory, I noticed a group of mages that were walking down the rampart. My smile dissipated somewhat, I knew the ritual was done. Imogen noticed my serious look and followed it to spot the mages that were walking away as well. One headed towards us. I met him just a bit ahead, he bowed his head and only said ''The Joining is almost ready.'', before catching up with his brethren. Ser Jory had snapped out of his thoughts, and gave me a questioning look. I nodded, I reckoned that was all he needed. He stood up and headed towards the alcove designated for our ritual. Imogen grabbed Daveth along and we went our way to their Joining.

 

 

It took a while before Duncan would come by with the goblet, much to the recruits' annoyance. With each passing moment, Ser Jory got more agitated, pacing about and pale as the moon. When he starts talking about backing down, Daveth, out of all people, rails against the Knight.

''I swear, I'm the bravest one here, and I'm a woman!'', Imogen says exasperated. I had to chuckle at that, at which Imogen flashed me a quick smile, rather smug with herself.

They ignored her, however, continuing their argument. When Daveth said that he would sacrifice alot more to stop the Blight, I had nothing but respect for the man. He would make a great Warden, honestly. Then just like that, Duncan walked up from behind us, explaining the Grey Warden origin as he prepped up the goblet meant for the ritual, filled with the vilest of content. '' So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and master their taint.'', he finished.

''W-we're going to drink the blood of those...those creatures?", came Jory's frightened reply. Daveth and Imogen gave each other worried looks, but stayed silent. Duncan stayed calm, likely not his first recruit to have his nerves get to him. ''As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory.''

''Those who survive the Joining beome immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon.'', I added. Duncan nodded approvingly, which made me beam a little.

''Those...who survive?'', Imogen asked timidly, having grown paler herself.

''Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay.'' Duncan answered solemnly.

''We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, would you speak the words?'', Duncan asked.

I straightened myself and recited the words I that have been burned into my memory ever since I first heard them. ''Join us, Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows were we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice was not in vain. And that one day, we shall join you.'' I kept my eyes to the ground, I was being reminded of my own Joining, I hoped this one was going to go smoothly.

A hope that was shattered as soon as Daveth started coughing after he drank from the goblet, grasping his throat. Ser Jory was a ghost, and Imogen could only stand there, hands over her mouth, terror in her eyes. I badly wanted to help her, maybe shield her from having to witness Daveth writhing on the floor. But I knew she had to endure. When it finally stopped and it was clear Daveth was gone, Duncan turned towards Jory, who was backing away, sword drawn, demanding to be able to leave. My hand was on my sword, though it wasn't neccesary. Duncan swiftly dodged Ser Jory's feeble defense and plunged his dagger into his gut. It was painless and quick, for him.

Despite witnessing two violent deaths in short order, Imogen didn't back away as Duncan walked towards her, goblet in hand, though her heavy breathing and frightened look did signify her anxiety. ''You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.'', Duncan said, handing Imogen the goblet. She stared into the concoction for the briefest of moments, but steeled herself, and moved the goblet to her lips. As she drank, Duncan finished.''From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden.'' Imogen clutched her head, wobbled in place, then almost tumbled over. I was able to grab her at the last second, preventing a hard landing as I eased her to the ground. She twitched and spasmed, all the while her eyes were open wide, rolled up into her head. A gruesome sight, so very disturbing, another nightmare to add to the others.

''You can put her down now, Alistair.'' Duncan said jokingly. I hadn't even realised I was still holding her, almost cradling her head. Embarressed, I put her down softly. Or rather, as softly as I could seeing as she still twitched, twisting her head from side to side.

''She will live.'', came Duncan's almost relieved confirmation as Imogen's twitches started to subside. Eventually she layed still for a while, then her eyes, which had closed, slowly opened, those golden orbs a welcome sight. It must've been strange, waking up to two men looming over you. I should know, I remembered how freaked out I was when I woke up, a full council of men so close to my face. She looked so very scared, eyes switching from Duncan's to mine own. She was still shaky when we helped her up, so she held onto me for support. Something I must admit I rather liked, even as I knew I shouldn't think of it like that. But honestly, I was just so glad she out of all of them survived.

''How do you feel?'', Duncan asked warmly. It took Imogen some time to respond, shaky as she was. Eventually she steeled herself. ''That was worse than my Harrowing!'', she managed, still quite shocked. Then she looked over to Jory's corpse. ''I can't believe you killed him!''

Duncan's explanation was calculated, cold even. ''Ser Jory was warned there was no turning back, as you all were. When he went for his blade however, he left me no choice. It brought me no pleasure to end his life, the Blight demands sacrifice from us all. Thankfully, you stand here as proof they are not all made in vain.''

Imogen understood, or at least, seemed to understand. Whether she agreed was something else, but I think she could see Ser Jory brought it upon himself. She noticed she was leaning on me, quickly correcting herself, letting go of me and standing on her own.

''Did you have dreams?'', I asked. ''I had terrible dreams after my Joining.'' She nodded, though didn't go into it any further. I understood her trepidation, even without asking I knew what she most likely saw.

Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come.'' Duncan explained.

''Before I forget , there is one final part to the Joining.'', I said, holding out my hand. A small, blood filled vial on a chain rested in it. ''We put some of that blood and put it in a pendant. To remind us, of those who didn't make it.''

As she gingerly took the pendant from my hand, Duncan explained what was to happen next. ''Take some time. When you are ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king.''

Finally, Imogen spoke again, rather shakily. ''I'm still in shock.''

Duncan put his hand on her shoulder, than, with those understanding eyes of his, he reasured her. ''Death is never easy to accept, especially when it arrives in such a brutal fashion. Honour your comrades if you wish, but know that we must press forward, always. The meeting is down the rampart, futher into these ruins, join us as soon as you are able.'' And with that he left, leaving Imogen and me just... standing there. She looked around, eyes so frightful and scared.

You'll be alright, I swear, it's just the early Joining kinks you have to get out, then you're completely fine.'', I tried to lighten the mood. She just gave me shy smile, not exactly what I was hoping for, but understandable. ''I appreciate your efforts Alistair, but I just need a moment. I'll be fine.''

''Good! Then you can go off to see the king! You might not want to keep him waiting. He might get mad, start crying, you'll feel bad and... well, it wouldn't be pretty.''

That got a laugh out of her, at last! A big one too, a very sweet yet hearty laugh. ''Then I'll better head out before I start a diplomatic travesty! Why aren't you coming along, Alistair?''

''I wasn't invited'', I shrugged. To be fair, it was half of the truth. The other half was that quite a few people there absolutely did not want to even see me, let alone have me participate in this meeting. It seemed good enough for Imogen, who bid me farwell and headed off deeper into the ruins. I walked back towards our small encampment, content with waiting for them to return and explain the battle plan. Cailan was obsessed with the Wardens, no doubt we will be up front. He might honestly believe that we could destroy the Darkspawn on our own.

Ha! If only!

 

 

The wait wasn't overly long, though I did contemplate what had happened. The fact we lost two recruits, among them a capable one, saddened me. Yet the bright news was that Imogen made it through. She lived to become a Warden, for all the good and bad it will do her. I remember first hearing about all the ails that afflict us after the fact. What disturbed me a bit however was how much I hoped that she, out of all three would make it. And not just because of her mage background, it was mostly because I didn't want to see such a lovely creature die. Not after getting to know her a bit.

A bit sounds about right, honestly. There was this air of mystery around her that was very entrancing, I wanted to know more everytime we spoke. Her experiences in the arcane are fascinating, an interest of mine the brothers at the monastary couldn't whip out of me, even when my hands were burning red for smuggling in the tenth runestone that month.

My musings were disturbed when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startling for the second time that night, I spun around, almost pushing Imogen, only narrowly stopping myself when I nocticed it was her. Imogen for her part startled because of _my_ startled response, slightly jumping backwards. Duncan was standing behind her, shaking his head whilst wearing a face that screamed ' _unimpressive_ '.

''I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-'', Imogen and I managed to blurt out simultaenously, followed by us nervously laughing. Duncan stepped in, fortunately taking over the awkward affair and discussed the battle plan. I was furious after he explained Cailan's vain plan, forcing Imogen and me to babysit the Tower of Ishal, lighting the beacon. ''What?! I won't be in the battle?!''

''It's by the King's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Loghain's men won't know when to charge.'', Duncan explained as though I was a petulant child.

''So he needs two Grey Wardens, standing there holding the torch, just in case right?'' I snarked.

''I agree with Alistair, we should be in the battle!'', Imogen argued defiantly. I flashed her a quick smile, happy to have an ally on my side for this.

''That is not your choice!'', Duncan retorted, now talking to what he must've felt were _two_  petulant children. If king Cailan wants Grey Wardens to light the beacon, then Grey Wardens will be there.''.

I rolled my eyes. ''I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the kings asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no!

''I don't know, I think I'd like to see that'', Imogen said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

''For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress.'', I replied. Imogen laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand, as I heard Duncan sigh heavily. I've gotten used to that, not so much the cute mage responding so positively to my snarky mumblings.

''The Tower is on the far side of the ruin, across from the gorge.'' Duncan explained, trying to steer the conversation back to the battle at hand. ''Cross it and head on through, you are expected.''

Imogen had some questions about the battle, alongside the details of our horribly mundane job. When she asked ''What if the Archdemon appears?'', I couldn't help myself from giving a snarky answer. ''We soil ourselves.'', I deadpan.

Imogen, to her credit, tried to supress her giggling, though failing miserably, growing slightly red at the face. Duncan just outright guffawed, not even trying to hide his amusement. When we were settled (by that I mean Imogen's laughter attack subsided), Duncan answered her properly. ''If it would appear, leave it to the elder Wardens. We don't need either of you playing hero.''

 

With our questions sated, we made for the bridge. Before Duncan left to join King Cailan, I stopped him. ''Duncan...may the Maker watch over you.'' Duncan smiled warmly. ''May He watch over us all.''.

With that, he left for the battlefield. I sighed and followed Imogen to the bridge. We waited there for a bit, seeing as the battle hadn't started yet. We wouldn't be needed until at least the the first charge. When the huge Darkspawn host emerged from the forest, I turned towards Imogen. Fear was heavy in her eyes, yet there was determination as well.

''You alright?'', I inquired.

''Yeah. It's just... There's so many of them! All of them disgusting, to a man. Thing. Darkspawn, whatever.''

''Very much so. That many Darkspawn can't just be a large raiding party. Trust me when I say this is in all probability a Blight. Or if you don't trust me, trust Duncan.''

''I trust you, don't worry'', Imogen said, turning to me with a smile.

It shouldn't have hit me as much as it did, but my heart fluttered a bit. Foolish perhaps, but by the Maker, hearing that from her made me happier than if one of our fellow Wardens would. This girl was genuinely getting to me.

As the skirmish phase of the battle ended and the charge was issued, we hurried towards the Tower. The Darkspawn managed to build their own siege machines, aimed squarely at the bridge we needed to traverse, another sign to me this was more than the King might've wanted to admit. We sprinted aross the bridge to avoid the flaming balls being hurled at us and the archers. Things were not looking up at the Tower either, as two soldiers came running out in a panic.

Darkspawn had infiltrated the Tower! Of course they had! Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That's what brother Murphy always told me. I just thought he was being dour, yet after all those years his words rang truer than ever.

Imogen, for her part, assumed a leader role, calming the two soldiers and urging them to come with us. Through the gate a commanders worst nightmare had come to pass: Darkspawn poured out of the Tower, hacking down most of the unsuspecting soldiers in minutes, with only a few holdouts. We managed to save a few men, though most of those lost their lives fighting the Alpha. Before we headed in, Imogen healed as many as she could, so they could accompany us. Eventually our small party fought our way through the first floor, having found out the way the Darkspawn managed to surprise the garrison: a massive tunnel going so far down it was shrouded in absolute darkness halfway.

As we reached the first floor of the Tower, I couldn't help myself but vent a little. ''Makers breath! What are these Darkspawn doing ahead of the horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here!'', I asked in confusion and anger, to no one in particular.

''You could try telling them they're in the wrong place.'', Imogen retorted, her face innocent but her eyes glinted in teasing mirth.

''Right, because clearly this is all just a misunderstanding. We'll laugh about this later!'', I snarked. The soldiers following us looked as though we'd been dropped on the head, multiple times. I understood that. For them, this is the stuff of nightmares. But honestly, our carefully laid plans falling into ruin was just another weekday to me.

As we moved further inward we were set upon by, what else, Darkspawn. After they were dispatched and we caught our breath, Imogen asked me why the ballistae were pointing at the chokehold so explicitly. ''They had set up an ambush. Or tried to, anyway. Good thing we managed to rush them, or else we would have lost some men to those. They're brutal. Most people hear Darkspawn and hear 'mindless horde'. Nothing could be further from the truth. When united, they forge, they build. Darkspawn aren't nearly as mindless as people expect them to be, sadly.''. Imogen turned to look at a ballista, concern growing in her eyes. ''Hey, don't worry. King Cailan and Duncan will route them of the field, afterwards we'll deal with the stragglers like they were grass to trample!'', I tried to ease her. Quite frankly, I didn't even believe it, however I saw some of the soldiers nodding, their morale improving a little as a Grey Warden perked them up. It reminded me of the legendary status we have, even in a place where we were exiled for so long. Imogen just shot me a concerned look, but didn't say anything further.

We managed to free some mabari still locked in cages before the Darkspawn could get to them, their ferocity greatly appreciated. Darkspawn don't react well to massive warhounds with a bone to pick. Nothing does, to be fair. With only the top of the Tower to clear, I figured we had ample time to signal for Loghain to charge in. But as we rounded the corner towards our objective, we were greeted by a growl that seemed to originate from the depths of the Void, which crushed my hopes harder than even the Revered Mother could ever manage.

An Ogre, a twisted, monstrous Darkspawn, towering over the tallest of men and adorned with gnarled, twisting horns on its head. It turned to us, holding the remains of presumably a soldier. Its milky eyes emanated hate, like all Darkspawn seemed to do. It then proceeded to roar, freezing everybody in our party. The hounds growled, but from behind us, our soldier companions meekly trying to take cover behind their shields. I myself only ever heard of these montrosities, never had I fought one myself.

When it started lumbering towards us, we finally managed to spring into action. The few soldiers with bows stayed back and fired at the ogre, whilst I took the rest of the men and the dogs to keep it away from the bowmen. Imogen stayed behind as well, casting like mad, both at the ogre and us. I could feel an additional strength flow through me, like my sword arm could cut thrice as hard and my shield arm could take thrice the punch. Which still didn't help when the ogre slammed four of us across the room. The only reason we got back up was because the dogs were sacrificing themselves to distract the ogre. Occasionally Imogen's flashes of lightning were followed up by the crackling sounds of impact, hitting the ogre in the chest and head, though sadly it seemed to do little serious injury.

A lucky break occured, however, when an archer shot its leg, causing it to kneel. This was the opening I needed. As I started running towards the ogre, Imogen must've caught my intention, because suddenly my lungs were filled with abundant air and I sprinted harder than ever. Her spell invigorated me as I lunged, my sword finding its target into the ogre's skull, the momentum enough to drive it through all the way to the guard. The ogre struggled and spasmed, trying to swat at me in its death throes. I was long gone from his reach by then, watching the pool underneath the vile creature grow larger, untill it stirred no more.

Cheers erupted around the room, I looked up to see the soldiers cheering and praising. Imogen ran up to me, cupping my face in her hand to inspect me. I was too high on the thrill of the kill to think anything of it. Her eyes meticulously scanned around my face, checking for external injuries, when her eyes turned and stared straight into mine. We stayed like that for a blissful moment, untill she started blushing and, noting my lack of serious injuries, ran towards the other soldiers on the ground, trying to heal them instead. I completed our task, throwing a torch into the furnace that would light the beacon. More cheers as the beacon lights on fire, the men left were relieved, they had fought so hard for this. In my moment to cool down, I watched through a missing chunk of the wall to oversee Loghain's charge. Imagine my pure shock and horror when I see his troops moving away as fast as they can!

''What are they doing? Why are they moving _away_  from the battle?!'', Imogen asked confused, having come to stand next to me.

''Traitor!'', I hissed. I don't think I was ever so furious as at that moment. I turn towards our sorry party: Six archers, three standing men-at-arms with three incapacitated, two wounded dogs and two Wardens frightened and tired above all else.

''Can your magic help us hold out? Perhaps we might still win.'', I almost begged Imogen. She gave me a tired look. ''I'm almost all out of mana, I've never drained myself so much before, I can barely stand!''

''Not even a potion?!'', I pleaded. She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. I was quite close to breaking out in tears myself. This was to be a last stand. As we moved towards the troops, they gave us worried looks. ''What's going on?'', one of them finally dared to ask.

''Loghain has retreated, he has abandoned his king.'', I said solemnly. Murmers of shock through the troops.

''How could he?"

''Surely he's repositioning! He won't abandon us! He can't!"

I had to put an end to their panicking. ''I don't know! But we must hope against all hope the King will break the Darkspawn and rescue us. We need to hold this floor. Barricade the door! Assume defensive positions!'' I started shouting orders, the soldiers sprung into action, throwing all objects in the room towards the door, the archers taking cover and standing at the ready. Imogen was patching the wounded up the old fashioned way: Cloth cut from her robe around any wound that could take it. With whatever mana left, she heated up the tip of her staff, using it to cauterise as many wounds as possible. For a moment I had to appreciate her ingenuity.

When something started bashing against the door, morale sank to an all time low. We knew what it was, what was to come through that door. Another bash followed, the men barely able to hold on to their shields. The third bash splintered the door, the archers fired into the smokey mess, only to be cut down by returning fire. I was almost too slow to raise my shield for a bolt shooting right for me. When I heard a feminine cry I looked back in horror. Imogen was shot, square in the shoulder, slumped against a wall. I tried to run towards her when another bolt headed towards me and found it's mark. As I felt it penetrate my calf I lost my balance. The last image I saw before my face connected with the stone floor was Imogen, sobbing as she clutched the arrow lodged in her shoulder, desperately trying to tug it out.

After that, darkness enveloped me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some cheeky edits to both this chapter and chapter II, if you're interested, give it a check!


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